A Gay in Straight Clothing
by InkJackets
Summary: Alix (with her newfound assurance in her being) and Chloé (who is struggling to come to terms with her sexuality) bond over their similar backgrounds and ultimately form an unlikely friendship.


This was written for the Miraculous Pride Zine on tumblr! You can go check out the whole thing there :)

* * *

Alix slammed off her alarm and groaned before rolling out of bed. She grabbed a pair of undies and shorts from her drawer and hopped around the room as she pulled them on while looking for a matching shirt. She swiped one from the floor, gave it a sniff, and chucked it on over her head, running from the room as she did so.

She entered the hallway, still pulling down her shirt, grabbed her backpack and had just finished slipping on her rollerblades when her father walked in from the kitchen, coffee in hand.

"Good morning, darling," he said, handing her an apple.

"Morning, Dad," Alix replied, grabbing her helmet from the hook by the door before taking the apple and biting into it.

"You off to school? You're not going to be late, are you?" he checked his watch anxiously.

Alix chewed and shook her head, "Don't worry Dad, I've got plenty of time."

"Well, if you're sure," he said. Alix grinned and opened the door. "Before you rush off," her father said quickly, "don't forget we are having dinner at the Bourgeois' tonight."

Alix groaned and smacked her head against the door; she had completely forgotten.

"But, I've promised Kim I'd do this challenge with him tonight," she lied, "we're going to race-"

"-No you don't," her father interrupted, shaking his head, "you're not getting out of this one."

"But _Dad!"_ she moaned, "Why can't Jalil go? You know he's so much better at these sorts of things than me."

"He's busy working at the museum tonight. Besides, Chloé's your age. It would be good for you to hang out with a nice young woman like her, maybe you could learn some things from her." Her father eyed her clothes.

Alix stared daggers at her father.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Her father sighed, "It would mean so much to me if you could wear something nice. You used to look so pretty in those dresses."

"Dad, for the last time, I don't care how I look, I don't care _for_ looks, and I'm never going to wear any of those dresses again."

Her father didn't respond but stirred his already lukewarm coffee with his teaspoon. Alix frowned, there was clearly something else on his mind.

"What is it?" she said bluntly.

He hesitated, "Your choice of fashion, or rather lack of it… it hasn't got anything to do with you being asexual…does it?"

Alix felt like her gut plunged into ice.

"What?" she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I'm just saying, trying to look more unappealing…"

"Of course not!" Alix cried with outrage, "It's just who I am!" She looked at her father in disbelief. He was a good father on the whole, if a little self-absorbed in his work. But he had never come out with anything like that before. She visibly deflated, "How could you ask me that?" she failed to hide the hurt.

"I'm sorry," said her father, "It was just a hypothesis."

Alix held his gaze for a second before turning away.

"I need to go to school," she said, her voice cold.

"Just… think about what you'll wear tonight, will you?"

"See you later, Dad."

She slammed the door behind her and skated out onto the street, the loose straps from her helmet flapping in the wind.

* * *

Alix strode listlessly into the classroom, she had skated faster than normal to let out her irritation. Chloé and Sabrina were already in the classroom giggling annoyingly which did nothing for her mood. They ignored her though and she, them.

Alix sank into her seat and stared out the window. She didn't sigh, she wasn't that self-pitying, but she drummed her fingers on the desk. She was bored and didn't want to think.

She let her attention wander until it landed on what the gossiping girls in front of her were talking about.

"She's so strong!" exclaimed Sabrina.

Curiosity got the better of her and Alix peered over to glance at the tablet where Chloé and Sabrina were looking at photos of Ladybug, fresh from last night's akuma attack.

The photo in question was of Ladybug stopping an onslaught of flying bricks from an akumatised construction worker with just her spinning yo-yo. The angle of the photo looking up at Ladybug, with her expression of true grit, and brick dust whipping past her face to top it off, did indeed make her look like a powerful figure. Alya had truly outdone herself with that shot.

"Mmmhmm," Chloé nodded dreamily, "Imagine her sweeping you away and flying over the city in those arms of hers. That would be magnificent." Sabrina looked at her strangely. "What?" said Chloé.

Sabrina swiped the screen to show a picture of Chat Noir fighting the akumatised victim before speaking carefully, "I thought you liked Adrien's arms."

Chloé drew herself upright and looked at Sabrina but her friend didn't meet her gaze. "I do," she said simply.

Sabrina didn't say anything, "Okay."

"What's my admiration for Ladybug got to do with my love for Adrien?" Chloé's voice grew shrill.

"Nothing, nothing," Sabrina said, her tone just a notch too high.

"What, can't I admire more than one person?"

"Yes, of course you can," she said, but her tone of voice implied something else.

Chloé frowned, as did Alix.

The awkwardness didn't last long though as Adrien chose that moment to stumble into the classroom. Alix raised an eyebrow, he looked exhausted.

Chloé didn't seem to notice though and leapt on him with a standard 'Good Morning, Adrihoney!' She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. Alix couldn't help but think her actions were a little more exaggerated than normal, as if she was trying to prove a point…

"Hey, Alix, what you thinking?" Kim slid into the seat next to her and pulled her out her mind. Alix smiled, grateful for the distraction.

"Nothing."

"Good, cause I've got a challenge for you."

That caught her attention.

Kim pulled a couple bottles of coke and a few sticks of mentos.

"I don't think I like where this is going," Alix grinned.

Kim smirked, "You gotta put about five mentos in your mouth and try drink a bottle of coke. Whoever finishes the coke first, wins."

"That is so stupid!" Alix laughed, "You're on, what's the forfeit?"

Kim grinned slyly, "If I win, you have to tell me who in this class you have a crush on!"

Alix's smiled immediately dropped, as did her stomach. She stared at him, "What are you? Some girl at a slumber party? What sort of bet is that? Besides, you know I'm-"

"-asexual, yeah I know," began Kim, "but there must still be someone you like more than just a friend, huh?" Kim nudged her and winked, "Besides, if I lose I have to tell you the same."

Alix glared at him deadpan. "If you're not going to think of a proper bet, then forget it."

Kim pulled back, "Jeez, whats up with you?"

Alix turned away from him and hunched over her desk. She stared out the window.

She felt a tiredness wash over her. Not sleepy tired, but she was sick of people making comments like that. She had thought that coming out would have stopped them, that people would start to understand. She had been wrong. And it made her exhausted.

Despite his faults though, Kim was still a great friend. However, just then, she was secretly glad when Mylene chose that moment to enter the classroom and Kim had to move back to his proper seat.

* * *

Chloé was silent as her chauffeur drove her home from school. Sabrina's comment had been running through her head all day. It had left her feeling vexed.

Why couldn't she love more than one type of person?

Unless Chloé had simply misread the situation? She thought back… No, Sabrina's voice had definitely had a judgemental tone to it.

"Ugh," Chloé crossed her arms and glared out the window. People were so annoying. Why couldn't she just love whoever she wanted to without question? Why was that too much to ask?

When the car pulled up to the hotel, Chloé went straight to her room, dumped her bag down, and collapsed on her bed.

She gazed at the various posters around her room. The majority were taken up by Adrien and, more recently, Ladybug. However, there were various other celebrities from all walks of life plastered around her room. The only thing they all had in common was that they were successful and virtuous people.

 _That_ was her type, Chloé thought sourly, not some superficial thing about height or hair colour, but what they wanted to do in their life. Good people. Well… successful people… who, okay, they had to look at least a _little_ bit attractive…

"Mademoiselle Chloé?"

The butler interrupted her thoughts.

"What is it?" She didn't bother moving.

"Your father has asked me to remind you that the Kubdels are coming over for dinner and that you are to get ready."

Chloé groaned and rolled over, "Why do we have to mix with people like them?"

"Your father has said they are highly influential people who are promising to back him in the next election if they-"

Chloé sat up and waved her hadn't impatiently, "It was a rhetorical question! Ugh, How did you not get that?"

"My apologies." Chloé huffed. "If I may," the butler continued, "your father has bought you a new dress that he thinks you'd like for tonight's dinner. Shall I bring it in?"

Chloé rolled her eyes, "Whatever."

The butler bowed and walked out the room. Chloé fell back onto the bed, limbs sprawled, and gazed up at a poster of Ladybug shooting across the Parisian sky. She let a cold apathy take over her body.

* * *

"Let's get this over with." Alix strode towards the door.

"Alix! Didn't you see the clothes I laid out for you?"

Alix's hand twitched. "Saw them, didn't care for them."

Mr Kubdel put his head in his hands, "I tried this time, Alix. Truly, I did. They were nice jeans and a simple white and blue top, I'm not asking for much."

Alix opened the door and stepped outside. She didn't look at him.

"Those jeans were high waisted, do you know how uncomfortable that is? And it was a _flowery_ white and blue top…with lacy bits Dad, _lacy bits!"_ Alix shuddered, "I've told you, I'm not wearing those sort of clothes anymore, and never will."

"But darling, why not?"

"It's not me, Dad." She turned her head so her vivid blue eyes met her father's grey ones. "Why don't you get that?"

Alix held his gaze, willed him to give her a proper answer, to not flake out and avoid the question.

Mr Kubdel sighed, "Let's just go, we don't want to be late."

Alix hid her disappointment.

* * *

"They're late," said Chloé, crossing her arms.

"It's only been five minutes, dear," said Mr Bourgeois

"Ugh." Chloé rolled her eyes.

She tapped her fingers impatiently for another minute before the doorbell rang. The butler opened the door and led the Kubdels into Le Grand Paris hotel lobby.

Mr Bourgeois walked forward to welcome them in.

"Good evening Mr Kubdel, and uh…was it Alice?"

"Alix," she stuck her hands in her pockets and pouted. She ignored the glare from her father.

"Ah yes, Alix, do come in."

Chloé watched Alix with displeasure. Alix met her eyes and nodded in greeting. Chloé gave her head a brief nod in return. It was a mere exchange of acknowledgement of the other's existence, nothing more. They both followed her father into the dining room.

* * *

It was taking everything in Chloé's power to not slump in her chair. She hadn't been this bored in a while. Their father's talk of elections and new museum exhibitions went right over her head, and the presence of Alix did nothing to improve her mood. She eyed the pink haired girl with distaste.

In Chloé's opinion, Alix was holding her fork wrong, cut chunks too big, and chewed the cake in a terribly ungainly manner.

Chloé pierced her cake with a fork and daintily popped the morsel into her mouth.

She felt her manners had to be twice as good in order to make up for the atrocities of the girl sitting across from her. Chloé sighed. Dinner had been a tedious affair.

As soon as Chloé finished her last mouthful of cake - with such hyperbole etiquette that she looked pained - her father turned to the girls.

"Why don't you two go upstairs now. Chloé dear, you can show Alix your room."

Alix frowned, but her father gave her a warning glance.

Chloé pushed her chair back with a huff and left the room with Alix tailing reluctantly behind her.

* * *

Chloé strode into her bedroom and flicked her hair haughtily, "This is my room," she announced, "I don't expect you to stay, you may go do whatever you want. I don't care."

Alix stepped in and gazed at the high ceilings and four-poster bed.

Chloé sat down on a chair, whipped out a nail file, and started manicuring her nails. To her annoyance, Alix didn't leave. Instead, the pink haired girl started wandering around the spacious room and peered at all her photos, posters and belongings.

Chloé so dearly wanted to tell her to get out, but for the sake of her father, she remained civil and contented herself with eyeing Alix over her nail file.

Alix sauntered from photo to photo. Chloé couldn't read anything from her expression and it was infuriating. Alix bent over to look closely at a set of photos on a shelf. Chloé narrowed her eyes. Alix then reached to the back and picked one up to bring it closer to her face.

"Hey!" Chloé jumped up, "Don't touch my stuff!"

"Sorry, just wanted to look."

Chloé strode over and snatched the photo off Alix, "Yeah? Well, don't."

Chloé made to put it back but froze when she realised exactly which photo it was.

It was of her, Adrien, and their respective fathers. They were waving out to a crowd at the end of Paris fashion week two years previous.

Chloé had always hated the photo, though she had never been able to quite put her finger on why.

"You don't look very happy," said Alix.

Chloé whipped her head up. "What?"

"In the photo," Alix clarified, "neither you or Adrien look very happy."

Chloé glanced back at the picture in her hand. Her and Adrien both had big smiles plastered on their faces as they waved enthusiastically out to the crowd.

Chloé raised her eyebrow at Alix.

"It's your eyes that give it away," said Alix, "You both look exhausted and like you'd rather be anywhere else than there. "

Chloé felt ice slide down her spine as what Alix said clicked into place.

She thought back to that day, remembering it clearly. Mere moments before, backstage, her and her father had got into a massive row. She had been socialising with all these adults for the past week. She had felt sick from all the fancy food, and tired of feeling out of place, what with being so young. Sabrina hadn't been allowed to come, and her only other friend had been modelling all week. She had been thirteen years old, she was shattered, and the absolute last thing she had wanted to do was go out on that stage, put on a happy face and wave at the crowds.

Chloé's eyes roamed over the photo to Adrien's picture. She would never forget the expression he had worn just before going on stage. He had been just as shattered as her, but evidently hadn't even attempted to put up a fight. What with his father's steely grasp on his shoulder, there was no hope. He had been turned into a glorified zombie.

The memory made Chloé seethe.

"All this socialising and keeping up appearances," Alix continued, bringing Chloé back to the present, "Don't you get tired of it all?"

Chloé didn't reply. Instead, she gently placed the photo back in its place. She felt a wave of insecurity wash through her but turned it into anger.

"You don't know me!" she snapped.

Chloé instantly berated herself. Why had she yelled like that? It wasn't Alix's fault. It was no one's fault. Chloé sunk back into a cold apathy. It was the only way she could protect herself from her own anger and self-hatred.

Alix put her hands back in her pockets.

"When it comes to other people and their emotions," she said, "I'm usually no good." Chloé felt Alix's eyes on her but didn't look up. "However recently there's one thing I've discovered I _am_ good at, and that's knowing when people are discontent."

"Why are you telling me this?" said Chloé.

Alix hesitated, "Because you're unhappy and hiding something about yourself."

Chloé drew her cold eyes up to meet Alix's warm ones. However, when Chloé didn't say anything and just glared indifferently, the light faded from Alix's blue eyes.

"Fine, don't talk." Alix strode away. Chloé could tell she was annoyed, but she didn't care. She watched as Alix strode towards her wardrobe. Instead of stopping outside though, or looking at other posters, Alix pulled the door wide and went right into Chloé's walk-in wardrobe.

For the second time that evening Chloé cried,

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

Chloé ran over and tried to grab Alix who was spinning with her arms wide.

"Wow, this place is huge!" Alix exclaimed, evading Chloé's grasp.

"Get out of my wardrobe!"

"Why the hell does one person need so many clothes?"

Chloé managed to grab her arm and drag her out.

"Calm down," Alix grumbled as she rubbed the spot Chloé had grabbed her, "I just wanted to see if you had as many designer dresses as you claimed to have." She continued to rub her arm, "Not that I'd know the difference," she added as an afterthought.

"Hmph," Chloé flicked her ponytail, "One has to have many designer dresses to maintain a good reputation and appear proper."

Alix raised her eyebrows. "How many do you have?"

The fight trickled out of Chloé, "Just stay away from my stuff," she said in a tired voice before walking away.

Alix was silent a moment. "To maintain a good reputation and appear proper." She repeated Chloé's words slowly. Chloé ignored her. "I'd much rather be myself and wear whatever's comfy," said Alix.

"Clearly," said Chloé with distaste.

"Oh, come on, Chloé!" Alix suddenly exclaimed, throwing her arms wide in exasperation. "You can't tell me you don't find it exhausting! I know what it's like too, all this socialising and pretending. I used to put on fancy dresses, make myself look pretty and go to these posh parties where people would say things like, 'Oh I love your dress where did you get it?' and 'That suits you so well you should dress like that more often!' but I'd be like, 'Are you even seeing me for who I am? 'Cause this isn't me at all!' But obviously I couldn't say that, so I'd smile and pretend this version of myself they saw was the real deal, but it wasn't, and I hated it."

Chloé turned to look at Alix and was met with blazing eyes.

"I wasn't happy," Alix continued softly, "So one day I decided to stop. I made a promise to myself that I would only be myself, I wouldn't owe anything to anyone." Chloé didn't know why she was listening to this, but something was stirring inside her. "So I stopped wearing dresses," said Alix, "I started rollerblading everywhere like I'd always wanted to," she paused and smiled, "I even dyed my hair pink," her smile dropped, "I stopped trying to be what other people wanted me to be."

Chloé drew her arms up and hunch in on herself as Alix's words flowed over her. She didn't know what she was feeling. Alix's words had snagged her soul and it scared her.

"Not everyone has that luxury," Chloé said bitterly before she could stop herself. "I…" Chloé hesitantly continued, "I feel like if I suddenly changed to be myself, nobody would take me seriously." She suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. She rubbed her arm anxiously.

Chloé didn't know why she was telling Alix this, she didn't want to engage with Alix's words, but she had to admit it felt a little nice.

Alix's eyes were wide. "Well," she looked at Chloé and spoke carefully; she was highly aware of the thin thread she was walking on, "Honestly, I think coming out as aro ace was the real bullet in the head for me. Sorta proved not just to myself, but to everyone around me that this whole change wasn't just a phase, it was me fully embracing who I am," Alix paused, "Though my father still hopes it's just a phase," she muttered, "But anyway, if you truly wanted to just be yourself, it is possible. Hard, no doubt about that, but possible."

Chloé chewed her tongue as she looked at Alix's warm and understanding smile.

Chloé frowned. "I have my father's campaign to think about," she said, "I've got a reputation to uphold." She drew herself upright. "You wouldn't understand," her voice took on a conceited tone, "you have no idea what it's like having paparazzi outside twenty-four seven, or security guards treading your every step," she became more domineering, "or your picture plastered though tabloids magazines! You don't understand anything, being myself isn't that simple!"

Chloé winced. she didn't need to be so condescending.

"Well, okay…" began Alix slowly, "but something clearly isn't right. What if you talked through this with a friend or something…?"

Chloé sneered and hated herself for it, "What, are you saying something's wrong with me?" She couldn't stop herself. "You think you could be this friend, do you? Hah!"

Alix drew her eyebrows together in anger, "No, nothing's wrong! It was just a suggestion! Jeez, I was trying to be nice! There's no need to talk to me like that." She threw her hands up in the air. "Who was I kidding? Of course I wouldn't be able to help you." Chloé flinched as she saw the hurt flash through Alix's eyes. "Excuse me for trying to be understanding." Alix stormed off towards the door.

Chloé chided herself. Why did she have to come out with something so arrogant and self-righteous? Ugh, nothing was right! Why was she feeling so awful?

"Alix, wait!"

Alix's hand hovered above the doorknob. Chloé clenched her fists and swallowed her pride.

"I… I didn't mean to say that." She drew in on herself. "I don't know why I acted like that." She paused, "No, I _do_ know why I acted like that." Chloé dug her nails into her arms as she felt a burning behind her eyes. "You're right," she said, smiling sadly, "I'm not happy. I… I don't know how to be happy." She felt tears well in her eyes. "My life is a lie," her voice cracked, "I'm sorry."

Alix turned to face her and blinked. "You're what now?"

"I'm," Chloé swallowed, "I'm sorry." The words slid out a little easier this time.

Alix's eyes widened and, to Chloé's surprise, she let out a little giggle, "Chloé Bourgeois, apologising. That's gotta be a first."

Chloé wanted to be annoyed, but for the first time, she ignored that little voice inside of her. Seeing the light and laughter in Alix's eyes couldn't help but put her at ease.

Neither of them spoke.

"I have thirty-two," said Chloé eventually.

"What?"

"Designer dresses. I have thirty-two."

Alix spluttered. "Thirty-two?" she exclaimed, "Are you being serious?"

"You can go count them if you don't believe me," Chloé said with a small smile and gestured towards her wardrobe."

"Haha! Nah I believe you."

There was another silence.

"You want to know something?" said Chloé. Alix cocked her head. Chloé rubbed her arms. "I don't like fashion labels."

"Oh," said Alix, a little confused.

"Well, I guess it's more like indifference," Chloé said, "You see I like fashion, but I don't like the superiority that comes with _labels_. I want to wear whatever I want, without judgement or scorn. But instead I'm told exactly what I can or can't wear. And I know it sounds pretentious, me complaining about all these designer clothes… except I like other styles too, you know what I mean? I like unconventional fashion labels, new and up and coming ones, ones that nobody's heard of, hell I even like clothes from thrift stores! As long as it fits me right and looks good, I'll like it." Chloé twisted her dress in her hands. "But instead I'm forced into this one style," her voice grew soft, "and I've been wearing it so long I feel like it's too late to change."

Alix looked at Chloé with concern. She stepped forward, almost as if she was thinking of comforting Chloé, but pulled back.

"If you must know," said Chloé, wrapping her arms around herself once more, "I'm scared of these feelings." She bit her lip. "I'm terrified about not being seen as normal," she whispered, "I just…I don't see why I can't admire more than one style." Those words felt heavier than Chloé had meant them to be, like she'd dug them up from somewhere far deep inside her.

Chloé looked up and received a slight shock at how intensely Alix was staring back. Chloé shifted uneasily. She didn't exactly know why she'd decided to lay herself bare, and in front of Alix of all people, but she didn't regret it, even if Alix's eyes seemed to look right past her words and into her soul.

Alix shifted her gaze to the posters and photos dotted around Chloé's room, all filled with stunning people from all walks of life. Chloé suddenly felt acutely aware of all the pictures in her room. She followed Alix's gaze until they landed on the two pictures that had pride of place above her vanity table. Adrien Agreste and Ladybug.

Alix chuckled softly. "I knew that you were in love with Adrien, that's always been obvious. But I admit I thought your obsession with Ladybug was merely just that, an obsession," she paused, "but it's more than that, isn't it?"

Chloé's skin prickled as Alix's deep blue eyes pierced her's again, clear with understanding.

"Bisexual?"

Alix questioned.

Chloé dug her nails into her arms. She shook her head. "Pansexual," she said in a terrified whisper.

Alix glanced around the room once more at all the beautiful people, "Makes sense." Alix gave her that soft understanding smile.

Chloé gently lowered her arms.

"You…You don't think I'm strange?" said Chloé.

Alix cocked her head to the side and smiled, "Strange?" she shook her head, "Of course not."

Chloé released a tension she didn't even know she'd been holding and sank with relief. She let the peace envelop them before piercing it with one simple word.

"Thank-you," she whispered.

Alix grinned, "A sorry and a thank-you both in the same day? I think I'm in the wrong timeline."

Chloé laughed before they lapsed into a comfortable little silence.

Chloé saw something then, a small glimmer of an opportunity that she could reach out and grab… if she was willing.

Chloé brushed her hair behind her ears, sucked in her breath, and took the plunge.

"Hey, Alix?"

"Hmm?"

"W- Would you like to be friends?" she asked hesitantly.

Alix's eyes lit up with a happy surprise.

"Now you're talking my style," she grinned.


End file.
